


Infatuation

by DerpySeahorseGenes



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: Alternate Universe, Based off of Tina-Sapphire's AU, First Love, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Management are a bunch of dicks, alternate universe - humanoid androids, they're pretty awful
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:49:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25788364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DerpySeahorseGenes/pseuds/DerpySeahorseGenes
Summary: Freddy wasn’t quite sure when it had started. When he had started taking quick peeks at the captain. When he started simply feeling better in his presence. When he had begun to look forward to the times when they had a mashup of their shows. When simply seeing his smile or hearing his laugh made him feel like he was bursting into flames.Whenever it had started, it hit him like he had just been thrown off stage.
Relationships: Freddy Fazbear/Foxy
Comments: 3
Kudos: 44





	Infatuation

**Author's Note:**

> This piece was written for the sixth anniversary of FNaF! I figured it'd be nice if I wrote something for an OG ship in the fandom.
> 
> You can find more about the AU I based this off of over here: https://www.deviantart.com/tina-sapphire

Infatuated.

That’s what Goldie had told him he was. _“That’s what you’re feeling right now,”_ he had said. _“They made you infatuated.”_ The words were said with a lot of spite. Freddy couldn’t figure out why.

He had asked if that was bad.

Goldie merely told him that as long as he made it his, everything would be alright.

(He had a lot of regret in his voice. Freddy had wanted to ask, but his brother pushed him out of the room before long. It was strange, surely, but everything about Goldie was strange)

** ~*~ **

He wasn’t quite sure when it had started. When he had started taking quick peeks at the captain. When he started simply feeling better in his presence. When he had begun to look forward to the times when they had a mashup of their shows. When simply seeing his smile or hearing his laugh made him feel like he was bursting into flames.

Whenever it had started, it hit him like he had just been thrown off stage.

(He still didn’t quite forgive Chica and Bonnie for doing that to him)

It made Freddy lose focus just thinking about the captain. Whenever he did, everything else suddenly didn’t matter. It was embarrassing to admit, but throughout the day he often found himself actively keeping himself from thinking about him. Otherwise his mind would wander and he’d start to wonder. Wonder what it’d feel like to hold the captain’s hand, to run his fingers through his hair, to have him sit on his lap, to press his lips against the captain’s neck and listen to him-

“He’s thinking about him again, isn’t he?”

“The name writing didn’t give it away?”

“Usually it’s just doodles, though.”

“But it’s super adorable, right? Big scary boss man’s got a crush!”

“It’s not very adorable when he does it all over the sheet music, Chica.”

** ~*~ **

Every week on Saturday, they’d be shut down during the night for maintenance. They’d get Sundays off to make sure they were working properly, which was why the pizzeria would be closed that day. It gave them time to plan out what they wanted to do that week, as well as figure out how to execute what was already scheduled. It was one of the few times they were actually allowed to do what they wanted, Freddy had realized some time ago. So he started using that to his advantage.

He knew management wouldn’t listen to him, but they listened to Goldie, and if he used the little brother card enough Goldie would do the dirty work for him.

(Goldie had written “brat” on his hand with a permanent marker once. It lasted for two weeks, but on the upside he was forced to give Freddy a pair of his gloves so he could cover it up)

It was small things at first. Nothing more than a book one of them had seen an employee reading once, or a board game they could play when there was nothing else to do. And as they kept receiving, the bigger the requests got. Clothes that they could wear outside of work hours, individual items so that they could enjoy any hobbies they had picked up. They got it all and a little more.

It was all stored in the backroom, boxes of what they owned mixed in with company materials and the like. The backroom was home to all of that and more. Like the endoskeleton. It was a funny thing that lied there most of the time, but sometimes it would move. Sometimes it’d even leave the backroom, though it’d go back before long.

Chica had gotten the bright idea to name it, so it was decided that it was now a he and his name would be N.

He seemed to appreciate it, if the little tilt of his head when they told him their plan was any indication.

But today was different. When Freddy had gone in there, N was sitting on the table. He held a little wooden box in his hands, small enough to where his fingers would’ve completely covered them if they weren’t spread apart like they were. “What do you have there, N?” Freddy asked.

N’s eyes slowly panned up to look at him. Then his arms lifted, holding out the box. Freddy blinked. “Is… it for me?”

N nodded again.

Freddy came closer, taking the box from his hands. It slipped out of N’s grasp with no resistance. For a second N’s arms remained in the air. They then fell suddenly, his wrists banging against the edge of the table. Freddy winced, but it didn’t seem like N was in pain.

He turned his attention to the box. He opened it, not sure what to expect. N couldn’t possibly have gotten this himself, so who did it? Why didn’t they just give it to him themselves?

His pondering came to a stop upon seeing what was in the box.

Resting on some red velvet fabric were two cufflinks. They were brown and shaped like bear heads. They both had two little raised dots colored black to look like eyes. There was also a piece of paper taped to the bottom of the lid.

_ You looked like you needed an accessory. They’re like mini-yous. : ) _

_ ~ Cap _

** ~*~ **

A company exercise.

They had called it a company exercise.

If Freddy hadn’t known that, he would’ve thought the universe was trying to kill him.

He was tasked with helping the captain redo Pirate’s Cove. So here he was: painting on the backdrop of the stage while the captain attempted to hang the new curtains. They were a darker purple this time with glitter. Freddy knew for a fact they’d shine brilliantly under the stage lights. Just like the captain would.

He bit his tongue. No, he couldn’t be getting carried away! He had a job to do, after all. Management would get upset if they didn’t complete everything by the deadline. And upset management wasn’t something Freddy wanted to see anytime soon.

Bonnie’s new ears were still sensitive, no matter how many times Fi tinkered with them.

(Nobody was quite sure where Fi had come from, but he was a lot better than their mechanics so he was welcomed with open arms)

“Shit! Ah, fuckin’ hell…”

Freddy jolted, dropping the paintbrush. He turned around. The captain was near the edge of the stage, holding onto the curtain. The other one had been successfully rigged up.

“Captain?” Freddy swallowed, licking his lips shortly after. He shouldn’t be so nervous. The captain was his co-worker, after all. “Are you alright?”

The captain turned to look at him. Two yellow eyes stared, wide and frenzied. Then they calmed as if the emotions were never there. It was weird seeing the captain without his eyepatch.

“Fine,” he answered. “But this curtain sure ain’t.”

Curious about the captain’s predicament, Freddy got closer. He felt his chest get warmer as he arrived to stand by the captain’s side. It was easy to see what was wrong with the curtain at first glance. There was a long tear in it.

He must’ve been too caught up in thought to hear the rip, Freddy reasoned.

“Management’s gon’ have me head for this one.”

“It… doesn’t look that bad.”

“Are ye blind?”

Freddy raised his hands, palms facing out. “No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant! It’s not the bad of a tear, honestly. It’s long but… it’s not too wide. It should be easy to patch up. I’m sure Bonnie wouldn’t mind-”

“Can ye do it?”

“...huh?”

The captain turned to face him. “Can ye do it?” He asked again. “Ye can sew, right? I saw ye do it one time for the lass’ dress.”

He prevented the noise in his throat from escaping. “I-I mean, I can, but-”

“Then why don’t ye? Bon’s probably caught up with that brother of yours anyhow.”

There really was no getting out of this, was there?

Freddy sighed. “Okay. I’ll… I’ll fix it.”

“Great!” The captain had a bright smile on his face. He shoved the curtain to Freddy, causing him to fumble in grabbing it. “Be right back!”

Without a second word he jumped off the stage, racing towards where the backroom was. Freddy watched him until he disappeared from sight. He then sighed, sitting down on the edge of the stage. He took a closer look at the tear. It was clean. There were no frayed edges, no little tears breaking off from it.

If he hadn’t known any better, he’d say it looked rather intentional.

“Got it!”

Freddy looked up. The captain had come back, holding a sizable box in the air. He grinned widely as he came closer, setting himself down next to Freddy. “Here ye go!” He exclaimed.

“Thank you.”

In order to keep from feeling like he was going to spontaneously combust, Freddy got to work on fixing the curtain. He chose the darkest shade of purple that was in the box, quickly threaded the needle, and chose the top of the rip to start working at. He wasn’t sure when he had ever learned how to sew - perhaps it was something that was pre-installed? - but that didn’t take away the calming effect it had. Watching the thread go in one side and out the other, slowly fixing the messed up details was something he didn’t think he’d ever get tired of.

It was nice to do something with his hands when all he did on stage was sing.

He was about half-way done fixing the tear when the captain spoke. “Yer good at this,” he said, voice quieter than Freddy had ever heard it be before. He glanced over at the captain. His eyes were directed at Freddy’s hands, and all of a sudden it felt like they were on fire.

“...thank you for the compliment.”

The captain sighed. The sound of something thumping against the stage caught Freddy’s attention. Was that the captain’s tail? “You know, sometimes I envy you and the others.”

Freddy stopped sewing. He fully looked at the captain. “You do?”

“‘Course I do! I got a hook for a hand!” As if to emphasize his point, the captain started waving it around widely. “And you don’t have to worry about keeping a facade! What you show the kids is who you are! Me? I’ve gotta act like a damn pirate all day!”

“Do you… not like being a pirate?”

The captain groaned. He fell back, a heavy thump resonating when he hit the stage. “Not all the time,” he responded. “Most of the time I love it. It’s fun. Exciting.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “But it gets tiring after a while. It starts being not fun.”

Freddy took a moment before saying something. “I understand,” he said softly. “After all, most of our shows are basically scripted at this point. We just go through the motions.” He turned back to the curtain and started to sew again, watching the glitter shimmer and shine as the fabric moved. “I think it’s alright to get bored if your routine stays the same.”

“Right?”

He jolted as the captain suddenly appeared in his peripherals. “I think I like you a lot more than I thought I would.”

The needle jabbed him right in the finger.

Biting his tongue, Freddy looked at the captain once more. _“What?”_ He managed to choke out, his voice feeling too high in pitch.

“You heard me.” Back to the pirate speak, then. “I like you. You're Interesting.”

“I could say the same for you, captain.”

“Don’t be so formal!” The captain threw his arm over Freddy’s shoulder. “I got a name, you know.”

God he was going to _die.  
_

Freddy gulped. “I am aware, yes.”

“So use it! You can just call me Foxy. I don’t mind.”

“Are you sure?’

“Yeah, yeah. Bon and Chica already use it anyway.”

How mean, was what Freddy first thought. Then he put it to the back of his mind. He’d get on those two later. “Foxy,” he said with a bit of hesitation.

“You got it!” The captain removed his arm from Freddy, clapping his hand and hook together. “You looked like you were about to explode for a second there.”

Chuckling nervously, Freddy removed the needle from his finger. “Well, since I’m allowed to call you Foxy,” he started, feeling something inside of him do a flip, “you can call me Freddy if you want.”

The cap-Foxy smiled.

“I like Fazzy a lot more.”

** ~*~ **

After that, Freddy found himself hanging around Foxy more. It was hard to find the time to do so, what with Chica and Bonnie always having something new they’d like to try or wanting to revisit something they had completely flubbed on. It was fun, of course. Freddy didn’t think he’d ever get tired of their endless enthusiasm.

Foxy also had endless enthusiasm, but his was slightly different.

He liked telling stories, Freddy had realized. Foxy liked spinning tales, mostly going by improvisation. It wasn’t even stories of him sailing the seven seas most of the time. They were stories about other people, characters that didn’t exist in reality. He told their stories with fascination in his eyes and a quirk to his lips, hand and hook moving wildly whenever he got really into it.

Freddy liked hearing Foxy’s stories. He always listened with rapt attention, even if he sometimes didn’t understand what was going on. It was nice to see him enjoy himself beyond the role management had given him. It was nice to hear the array of emotions in Foxy’s voice, nice to see his ears and tail move with them.

In return, Foxy liked hearing Freddy sing. He had once said that his voice was “akin to a siren’s”, which made Freddy a lot more flustered than he had any right to be. In truth, he wasn’t all that proud of his vocal capabilities. He knew he was good, knew that he was better than Bonnie and Chica by a longshot(but they were getting there and Freddy couldn’t be more proud of them if he tried), knew that the customer reviews praised him to the moon and back.

Management didn’t seem to think the same, if the constant tinkering with his voice box wasn’t proof enough.

(One time something had broken inside of it. It was a small piece, something that could’ve easily been fixed. Something that _he _could’ve easily fixed. They had the materials. But his mechanic wasn’t there.

They had forced him to the back room for a week until she came back, and he could only _think why why why why me why me._

He hadn’t seen Goldie so angry before, and he was terrified to see it again)

He didn’t tell Foxy any of this, but he had an inkling he knew about it anyway. No matter what Freddy ended up singing - whether that be a soft lullaby that had Foxy dozing off or repeating what he heard from a song on an employee’s radio that made Foxy bob his head - Foxy always made sure to compliment him. Sometimes it’d be something as short as “you did good” to long spiels about every little thing he enjoyed, he always made sure to give some positive feedback.

It felt wonderful.

Foxy also liked doing the same brand of inane things Bonnie and Chica had come up with. Granted, whenever Foxy forced Freddy to do something similar it somehow always managed to get more out of control, but it was a brand of fun Freddy was familiar with. A type of fun he enjoyed a lot.

And so, partially in guilt of neglecting his friends and partially in fear of his new attachment deteriorating, Freddy made it a point to gather the three chaotic forces in his life together sometimes and let them run wild.

It didn’t take long for Chica and Foxy to get along. Within minutes they were throwing jabs at each other, going from snarking in a good natured way to laughing together like they had known each other their whole lives in seconds. It had taken Bonnie a bit longer to warm up to him, but they eventually got there. Freddy wasn’t quite sure what it was that made it so, and neither of them gave an answer when he asked about it.

Some part of him felt like this was how it was always supposed to be. As if they were always meant to be a quartet instead of being split off into a trio and a solo act. He didn’t bring it up to any of the others. It wasn’t something they needed to ponder about. But he did bring it up with Goldie, because his brother knew a lot more about themselves than he cared to let on.

He had looked at him with a twinkle in his eyes, ruffled his hair, and said that management had the awful habit of trying to force changes without actually doing anything.

** ~*~ **

Night guards.

They had started to hire night guards. They weren’t told why they were being hired, just that they were and that they were to behave when one was in the building. Which meant that they couldn’t move around. It was a decision none of them were pleased with, particularly Fi and Carl as they stayed in the office most of the time. But they couldn’t protest it without consequence, so they took it silently.

Or at least, they did until they saw the list of who was hired for the new position.

_ Anders, Winston _

_ Callahan, Scott _

_ Gates, Parker _

_ Riles, Jennifer _

The names meant nothing to Freddy, and he doubted they meant something to the others. They meant something to Goldie, however. He was angry. Furious. Goldie’s anger was the quiet kind: you didn’t really know it was there until he let you know about it. It sent a shiver down Freddy’s spine. He was always sensitive to Goldie’s emotions.

Perhaps there was a reason they were given the list when the manager wasn’t there, and Freddy dreaded what would happen when he came back.

** ~*~ **

“The lad keeps peeking in ‘ere.”

“He does?” Freddy asked, not stopping in the braiding of Foxy’s hair. He wanted to try a crown braid this time. Something about wanting to one up Chica.

“Aye.” He was cleaning his hook, aggressively wiping at it with a cloth. Apparently he had let a kid sign it without realizing that it was a permanent marker. “Looks at ye brother too.”

That got Freddy to pause, but he quickly resumed. “Does he now?”

“Mh. Not sure how ye didn’t notice yet. Looks at him the same ye do me.”

“We-Well, I’m sure it’s nothing like that-”

“Trust me, Fazzy. I know.” A short laugh let him, only furthering the intense burning Freddy felt all over his body. “You’re not that subtle ‘bout it.”

God, what was this feeling? Embarrassment? Mortification? Horror? No, it had to be something far worse. It made Freddy want to crawl in a hole and rot until there was nothing left of him but a shell that a mole could make a home out of.

Eventually he managed to find the will to take his hands off Foxy’s hair and say: “You’re not subtle about it either.”

“There’s nothing to hide. Not like those power tripping bastards don’t know about it already.”

Freddy looked away. He curled his hands into fists. “Of course they do,” he responded in a low voice. “They would’ve known even if they didn’t…” He trailed off, not wanting to say it.

He heard Foxy sigh. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Foxy lean back, and he was too late to stop him from landing on him. Foxy’s head ended up on his left shoulder, half done braid creating an odd feeling.

“So there’s no point in hiding it. Everybody knows at this point.”

A sharp laugh left Freddy. He didn’t feel much joy in it. “Tell me about it.”

“So?”

“So?”

“What are we going to do? We can’t just ignore.” Foxy’s ears twitched, tickling Freddy’s neck. “Lord knows our dear higher ups would have a fit if we did that. Might even rip us a new one.”

“Yeah…”

_ “If you make it your own, it’ll be alright.” _

“Oi, Fazzy. You alright?”

“We could take control of it.”

“What?”

“We could take control of it,” Freddy repeated. “These feelings that we have. If we… if we make them our own, it won’t be so bad. ...at least, that’s what I’m hoping for.”

For a moment there was silence. Then Foxy moved away from Freddy. He heard him moving, causing Freddy to look at him. He had taken off his eyepatch, letting his two eyes shine bright. “And how do we do that, oh genius one?”

“I’m not-” Freddy stopped himself, holding his tongue. He sighed. “We… do what we want, I suppose. See where that takes us.”

“Interesting.” Foxy tapped his fingernails against his hook, metallic clinks sounding far too loud. “How would we know what’s us and what’s them?”

“We wouldn’t. But that’s what makes it fun.”

“You’ve got some sense of humor,” Foxy said with a grin. Just like that it made Freddy feel better. “But that’s what I like about you.”

He felt a grin of his own form. “So you finally admit to liking something about me? How flattering.”

“Don’t let it get to your head, Fazzbutt.”

** ~*~ **

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but you are actually worse than you were before.”

“Whatever do you mean?”

Bonnie gestured to the mess of fabric, bands, and strings that littered the table. “Since when do you make _clothes?”_

Freddy stuck his needle in the pincushion, turning in the chair to face Bonnie. “Eyepatches aren’t clothes. Besides, Foxy said he wanted a selection to choose from.”

“Whatever! You’re seriously wigging me out with this!”

“If this is enough to get to you, you’re probably going to hate Foxy even more.”

“Oh my God.” Bonnie put his hands over his face. “Why did you do this? Why couldn’t you have stayed admiring each other?”

Freddy smiled, giving a little tilt to his head.

“It just happened, I suppose.”

** ~*~ **

Over the course of the next few weeks, they kept up the act.

Well, calling it an act was a bit of an exaggeration. Part of Freddy really did want to do these things. A different part wanted to play it up bigger than it was. He wanted people to take notice. Wanted them to look and see and pay attention. He wanted them to think ‘how obnoxious.’

He wanted _management _to think ‘how obnoxious.’

If it was a show they wanted, a display beyond their wildest dreams, he’d give it to them. He’d give it to them tenfold and by the dozen. They wanted hugs? He’d sweep Foxy right off his feet and spin. They wanted kisses? He’d pull Foxy to darkened corners and make him feel breathless. They wanted affection and adoration and _love?_ He’d make them so sick of it they’d regret ever causing it.

“Ye’ve got a scary expression on yer face.”

“Hm?” Freddy looked up from the papers he had stolen from the manager’s office. He clearly wasn’t doing the finances properly, so Freddy took it upon himself to do them. It wasn’t too hard once he knew what to do.

Foxy was sitting on the other side of the table, playing with one of the stuffed Freddy toys they had just gotten stock of. They had nowhere to sell it, so he wasn’t quite sure why they had them. Regardless, Foxy had taken a shine to this particular one and was currently making its threads lose with his hook.

“Got a wide grin there,” Foxy explained. He smirked. “It’s exciting.”

“How uncouth.”

“Ye know ye like it.”

Freddy hummed. He leaned against the back of his chair, turning his head to the security camera in the dining room. It wasn’t on, but he knew they were watching. They were always watching. “You’re right,” he admitted. “I do like it.”

He smiled wide.

“You could say I’m infatuated.”


End file.
